Page 16 of Forged in Fire (Dragonblood Dynasty #5)

I ris

The crack of the rifle splits the mountain air, and I don’t think—I just move.

His body slams into mine, sending us both tumbling behind a cluster of boulders as the bullet whistles through the space where I was standing a heartbeat ago. Stone chips explode around us, sharp fragments stinging my cheek as we hit the ground hard.

“Stay down,” he growls against my ear, and I feel warmth spreading across his sleeve where it presses against my arm.

Blood. His blood.

“You’re hit.” It shouldn’t upset me, but something cold and terrible unfurls in my chest at the sight of crimson seeping through dark fabric.

“Graze.” He’s already moving, scanning the rocky terrain with those sharp eyes. “They found us faster than expected.”

Another shot rings out, closer this time. Voices echo off the canyon walls—at least four, maybe six of them. Professional. Methodical. The kind of people who don’t miss twice.

“This way.” His hand closes around my wrist, and even through the adrenaline flooding my system, I notice how warm his skin is. How the contact sends tingles up my arm despite everything.

Not the time, Iris.

He leads us deeper into the maze of stone formations, moving on instinct. Behind us, boots scrape against rock, getting closer. These guys don’t give up easily—I’m learning that the hard way.

He stops beside a narrow crevice between two towering rock faces, barely wide enough for a person to squeeze through. “Here.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Would you prefer the bullets?”

Fair point.

I slide into the gap first, immediately regretting it as the walls close in around me. The space is barely wide enough for my shoulders, and when he follows, pressing in against me, there’s nowhere to go. Nowhere to escape the heat radiating off his body or the way his breath warms my skin.

The wound on his arm brushes against me, and I feel him tense. More blood, the scent warm and metallic in the cold mountain air.

“How bad is it?” I whisper.

“I’ll live.”

Typical non-answer. Men and their stupid pride.

The voices are getting closer. Close enough that I can make out individual words—coordinates, search patterns, orders.

My shadows respond to the threat, rising from the rocky ground. They test the air, seeking, searching for anything that might give us an advantage. But the space is too confined, too exposed.

If they find us here, we’re trapped.

“What are you doing?” His voice is barely a breath against my ear.

“Keeping us alive.” I close my eyes, reaching for the darkness that’s always been part of me. “Trust me.”

The shadows answer my call like old friends, flowing up from the stone and wrapping around us both. Cool ribbons wind between us, over us, creating a barrier of living darkness that should hide us from searching eyes. Should make us invisible to anyone who doesn’t know exactly where to look.

I feel him go still against me as my power settles around him. His body heat increases, but he doesn’t pull away. Doesn’t flinch from the shadows touching his skin.

“What are you?” The question is wonder, not fear. His breath is warm against my ear, and something low in my belly responds despite the danger closing in around us.

The shadows pulse with my heartbeat, wrapping us closer together. In this confined space, pressed against each other from shoulder to knee, I can feel every breath he takes. Every subtle shift of muscle as he stays perfectly still, letting my power protect us both.

“Why should I tell you about myself when I don’t even know your name?” The admission slips out before I can stop it.

Why the hell should I care what his name is?

Silence stretches between us, filled only by the distant voices of our pursuers. For a moment, I think he won’t answer. That even facing death together, he’ll keep his secrets locked away.

Then, so quietly I almost miss it: “Riven.”

Just that. Just his name. But something in my chest loosens at the sound of it, a lock finally clicking open.

“Riven,” I repeat, testing the syllables. They fit him—sharp and strong and slightly dangerous. The kind of name that belongs to someone who lives in darkness and makes impossible choices.

The shadows around us pulse once, responding to the shift in energy between us. To this first fragile thread of trust.

“Now… what are you?” he repeats.

“I… Dragon,” I say, because I don’t really know more than that. It’s always been obvious to me that I was different, but no one ever knew why.

“More than dragon,” he says.

“Yes.” I don’t elaborate.

“So what—?”

“Over here!” A voice, too close. Boots on stone, weapons cocking.

We freeze, pressed together in our cocoon of darkness.

Riven’s body is tense against mine, every muscle coiled for action.

I can feel his heartbeat through the thin fabric of his shirt, quick and strong.

Can smell leather and gunpowder and something that makes my pulse skip, even though death lurks so close.

The Guild operatives pass within ten feet of our hiding spot.

I hold my breath, maintaining the shadow barrier with everything I have while trying not to think about how perfectly Riven fits against me.

How his injured arm wraps around my waist to steady us both.

How easy it would be to tilt my head back and—

Stop it.

But when one of the operatives pauses directly in front of our crevice, when his flashlight beam sweeps the area where we should be visible, my shadows hold firm. They keep us hidden, safe, invisible.

Protected.

“Nothing here,” the operative reports. “Moving to on.”

The voices fade. Footsteps recede. But we stay frozen in place, hardly daring to breathe until the mountain falls silent again.

That’s when I realize how close we are. How his face is only inches from mine in the darkness. How his lips are right there, and all I’d have to do is shift slightly…

The thought makes my head spin. This man tried to kill my brother. Kidnapped me. Turned my entire world upside down in the space of a few hours.

And I want to kiss him.

What is wrong with me?

Adrenaline. It’s just fear and adrenaline turning my brain to mush.

“Iris.” My name on his lips sounds different than it ever has. Rougher. Hungrier. Like he’s thinking the same impossible things I am.

His free hand comes up to touch my face, fingers tracing the line of my cheek with surprising gentleness. The contact sends fire through my veins, making my shadows flutter like startled birds.

“We shouldn’t,” I whisper, but I don’t pull away.

“No,” he agrees. “We shouldn’t.”

But he doesn’t move either. If anything, he leans closer, until I can feel his breath against my lips. Until the space between us becomes something dangerous and utterly irresistible.

When he kisses me, it’s soft at first. Tentative. Testing. Like he’s giving me the chance to pull away, to remember all the reasons this is insane.

I don’t pull away.

Instead, I kiss him back. With all the years of loneliness and fear and desperate hope.

With the relief of being alive, when we came so close to dying.

With the terrifying realization that this stranger with blood on his sleeve just saved my life for the third time, and I don’t know what that means.

Don’t know what any of this means.

The kiss deepens, and I can taste his surprise. His desire. The carefully controlled restraint that’s been keeping him at a distance since the moment we met.

My shadows respond to the emotion flooding through me, winding around us both like they’re trying to bind us together. Like they recognize something I don’t.

Then voices echo from somewhere too close, and we jerk apart like we’ve been electrocuted.

“All clear. Regrouping at the vehicles.”

“Copy that. They couldn’t have gotten far on foot.”

Reality crashes back in brutal waves. We’re still being hunted. Still trapped in this impossible situation with no clear way out. And I just kissed the man at the center of it all.

Riven’s eyes find mine in the darkness, and I see my own confusion reflected there. This attraction between us doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t fit with anything in this impossible situation.

But it’s real. Undeniable. Dangerous as hell.

“They’re moving off,” he says quietly. “We should wait a while to be safe.”

I nod, not trusting my voice. Not trusting myself to do anything other than focus on the practical details of survival.

Because the alternative—thinking about what just happened between us, what it might mean—that way lies madness.

The mountain falls silent around us. My shadows settle into a comfortable darkness, no longer defensive but protective. Sheltering. Like they understand that something fundamental has shifted between Riven and me.

Something that can’t be undone.

He’s saved my life three times now. Three times, he’s chosen me over whatever orders he’s following, whatever loyalty he owes to the people hunting us.

And I don’t know if that makes him my salvation or my damnation.

Maybe both.